


Shattered Idols & Broken Hearts

by CanineR7A7



Category: Wizards of Waverly Place
Genre: Alex needs a hug, But you already knew that, Fix-It, Hurt/Comfort, Other, Other characters are either mentioned or not important, Post-Canon, Stevie Needs a Hug, The Russo family is OOC, The Wizard Competition is sketchy, kind of
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-05
Updated: 2019-05-05
Packaged: 2020-02-26 13:07:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18717688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanineR7A7/pseuds/CanineR7A7
Summary: The last thing Stevie remembered was being stripped of her powers by someone she considered a friend. After waking up in the care of a complete stranger the only thing she wants is revenge, but is everything as it seems?





	Shattered Idols & Broken Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Probably should’ve mentioned this in the tags but it’s been a while since I’ve watched the show so some things might not be accurate, but hey this is fanfiction so since when has accuracy been necessary?

She didn’t really know what to expect when she headed back to her cabin, but the form of a passed out teenager wasn’t it.

 

“Kid?” She called over, the teen didn’t respond. _Just my luck_ she thought to herself as she approached the slumbering figure. _She looks cold._

 

“Hey, you okay?” Still no response, she shrugged her jacket off her shoulders. The Canadian winter didn’t bother her, it never had done. She wrapped the fur-lined leather around the girl and hefted her into her arms; she was light, too light. She heaved in a large breath of the cold air and ran at an inhumane speed to the cabin, not noticing the white wand sticking out of the snow.

 

* * *

 

When she woke up, she felt something warm covering her. Opening her eyes she saw a rather heavy quilt up to her shoulders, she tried to scan the rest of the room but found moving her head difficult. It was as though it she hadn’t moved it for hours…wait a minute.

 

“Russo.” She growled, though it came out raspier than she intended.

 

“Oh good, you’re awake.” She startled when she heard the voice, she tried to move but her body was too stiff.

 

“Who are you? Where am I?” Stevie felt herself being moved into a sitting position, her eyes instantly locking onto the figure in front of her. She was young, probably the same age as her; coffee brown hair cut short with a longer patch of neon blue forming a messy fringe over one eye.

 

“Name’s Archer.” She brushed the neon blue strands behind her ear, which seemed to have a small chunk missing from the helix. She noticed one eye was a deep golden color while the other was crimson.

 

“As for where you are, you’re in Canada.” Stevie furrowed her brow, how was she in Canada? That made no sense. She didn’t notice Archer had moved until a bowl of stew? – she didn’t really know what it was – was placed in front of her.

 

“Eat. We can talk more later.” She watched as Archer slipped a worn-out looking hunting jacket over her shoulders before heading out of the room. Deciding she had nothing better to do, she ate whatever was in the bowl; she had to admit it tasted better than it looked.

 

* * *

 

She didn’t know how long it took for Archer to get back; it had probably been a while if the amount of snow covering her jacket was any indication. The other girl tossed the battered leather to the floor, carefully repositioning the box clutched under her arm.

 

“What’s that?” Archer merely smiled at her before placing it on the crudely assembled coffee table.

 

“Nothing you have to worry about.” The other girl called over as she walked through the door at the back of the room. She returned moments later in a blue t-shirt and white sweatpants; Stevie shivered just looking at her, wasn’t she cold?

 

“If you’re trying to convince me you’re not a mass-murderer you’re doing a terrible job.” Archer merely chuckled before shaking her head at the absurdity of it.

 

“Trust me; if I wanted to kill you you’d be dead already.” She should probably be concerned at how much that managed to relieve her, but her survival instincts had never been the best.

 

“So, what exactly is in the box?” Yes she was curious, but could anyone really blame her?

 

“You’re not going to let this go until I tell you, are you?” Stevie merely shook her head, grinning when she watched Archer pick up the box and carry it over. There was nothing about it that stood out; cardboard covered in damp patches where the snow had melted, a single broad piece of tape securing the flaps at the top.

 

“You’ve probably guessed by now that you’re not the first person I’ve found lost in the woods. Usually, it’s hikers that strayed too far from their camps, but sometimes it’s people looking for the village. For those people I’ll help them get where ever it is they’re going, maybe give them some supplies if it’s a long trip. Rarely, the people I find are injured or at the very least in no condition to be left alone. I’ll bring them here, give them something to eat and they’ll stay here until they’re well enough to move on.” So she was lucky enough to be found by someone who cares, she couldn’t help but wonder what would’ve happened if Archer hadn’t found her.

 

“Usually these folk will give me a ‘thank you’ and that’s the end of that. But sometimes they want to stay in touch; I don’t get a signal out here so once a week I’ll head into the village to see if anything’s been sent. Sometimes it’s a post card, other times a letter, maybe a picture or two. But the best things I get are maps, survival tools, lock-picks interestingly enough, and sometimes I get some snacks out of it.” So she essentially had a form of contact network, good to know.

 

“As for what’s in the box, let’s have a look.” She pulled a switchblade from somewhere, Stevie wasn’t sure she wanted to know where it had come from, and sliced it neatly along the tape. She reached into the box, expression morphing into a pleased grin as she pulled out two smaller boxes and a bundle of paper.

 

“Let’s see; a map of Scotland? Oh I know who this is from.” Archer laughed as she read one of the other sheets.

 

“How’s your alcohol tolerance?” Stevie shrugged, she wasn’t really sure. Archer gained a serious expression, glancing at the front door as if to make sure no one was there.

 

“Answer me honestly. Are you mortal?”


End file.
